Company
by Kyrri
Summary: Sequel to 'Far too Long' - A rather chilling look at what the future might hold. Warning: Slash pairing! You have been warned!


Title: Company  
  
Author: Kyrri  
  
Author's e-mail: kyrrissean@hotmail.com Sequel/Series: Sequel to 'Far too long' Rating: PG Disclaimer: No, not mine, all Marvel's, as always. Summary: A rather chilling look at what the future might hold. (Part 2) Archive: If you could just drop me a note to tell me where. Warnings: Um. as with 'Far too long' - if you're looking for the X-Men I can point out which cemeteries to go to. Also Logan, being the only one left, has kind of gone off his rocker, but we can hardly blame him. Feedback: Pretty please, with a cherry on top! Author's Note: This is dedicated to Wolverine6claws in the hopes that he knows there are still people who care. And if he doesn't believe it he can ask Mick'nStar to repeat it for me... we're going to say it until he's to tired of us to deny it anymore.  
  
Company. By Kyrri  
  
The chains rattled as the figure moved in the darkened room. They shifted as he shifted, leaning forward against them, letting the pain ripple through him from his wrists and shoulders as he let them hold his full weight. It hurt, but the pain was his only companion and in some twisted way he valued it's company.  
  
It kept him sane. It reminded him that he was indeed, still alive. It kept the beast hidden deep within; cowering in the farthest reaches of his mind, his heart and his soul. It made him human,  
  
Human. after more than three hundred and fifty years he wondered what right he had to claim to be such. He was certainly bound and caged like an animal. Not that it surprised him; those times that he could fight free of the beast and regain some semblance of cognisant thought. It didn't surprise him at all.  
  
He drifted, in that place between sleep and wakefulness and wished that the other would come, the pain a dull reminder that he wouldn't. Not the physical pain - that only served to emphasize the emotion - only a simple reminder of his broken heart. So he continued to drift, his shoulders and wrists going numb, the absence of feeling echoing his thoughts. He wanted him to come. wanted him, wanted him so badly.  
  
It hurt so much and still he didn't come. Didn't make the pain fade away like he used to. A footstep echoed through the pathways of his mind, painfully loud in the silence. Still he drifted. The footsteps were coming closer, a light chuckle following quickly after, like music to his ears, but no more than a memory. Fading as quickly as it had come.  
  
"Why did you leave me?" he murmured to the walls of his cell, uncomprehending - refusing to comprehend. Sanity was overrated after all. The beast knew, but he wouldn't tell him. The pain knew, but it wouldn't speak in any way save to lash out at the fragile remains of his mind.  
  
The wind shifted as he drifted, it tugged at his hair, almost just like fingers. it caressed his cheeks and brushed across his lips. something was wrong, but he didn't care. He drifted.  
  
Wind. it played across his neck and breathed into his ear, the laughter closer now - always closer, always coming nearer and always unwilling to share the joke. Perhaps the joke was on him, he mused. That he should live while they all.. He pulled away from the thought as though he'd touched hot coals, flinching and refusing to look.  
  
They'd left him, that was all. They'd all left him. He'd left him.  
  
Drifting was easier than remembering, even the beast agreed with him on that, whining from the corner where it hid from the pain.  
  
The bolt of the door was lifted, he could hear it being slid back, before the door was pushed open slowly, light almost blinding him, almost penetrating that safe little place where he was drifting, almost but not quite. His head turned towards that light, he didn't really care who was in control right now. him or the beast. it didn't matter and he didn't have the energy to move. He wanted to drift. It hurt less that way.  
  
"Wolverine?" the word penetrated his senses as he shook himself and glanced up. There was a figure silhouetted in the light coming from the corridor as he stood in the doorway.  
  
He blinked at the figure, trying to bring it into focus. It wore a coat that could have been a murky brown. He had the brief notion that he could have sworn it was white a moment before, but his mind was foggy from drifting and he let it go.  
  
The figure moved, revealing a head of shoulder length brown, no wait, auburn, hair. "Wolverine?" the man asked as he moved forwards towards him. His voice sounded strange, almost familiar, but. he could have sworn.  
  
"Logan?" briefly he wondered since when he and the so-called doctors were on a first-name basis, but then the figure stepped out of the light of the door, letting the light flood inwards to chase away the darkness. He looked at the figures face and gasped, hope beginning to burn, warming the cold emptiness he had become so accustomed to.  
  
"You came back." he whispered, his voice nearly breaking,  
  
The man frowned at him, red on black eyes seeming baffled for a minute.  
  
"You came back." he repeated, begging for some other reaction.  
  
Auburn hair brushed against a pale neck as he shook his head. "I check up on you every now and then, Wolverine. You know that."  
  
"Liar!" he shouted, but the beast recoiled, pulling away. Briefly he wondered if it knew something he didn't, but anger broiled within him, pushing the thought aside. "You left. You never came back! Why? Why did you leave me?" the last words escaped him in an angry growl.  
  
The kid backed away from him, brown trench coat brushing against his legs, red on black eyes wide, when the man called Wolverine yanked at the chains. "Calm down, Wolverine." The auburn-haired man took another step back. "I'll just go get something to help you sleep." The figure took another careful step backwards.  
  
"No, you can't leave me again!" he yelled, feeling the beast leap to life within him, as he flung himself forwards against the chains, tearing free from them, not caring that he'd snapped the bones in his wrists as he threw himself at the figure. It hurt, the pain flaring through his body as the kid thudded to the ground beneath him. It hurt, but not as much as his heart.  
  
He could hear people yelling, but he didn't care, he couldn't care. His claws snaked out, warm liquid trailing over his knuckles as he sliced downward. The auburn-haired man made a sound, deep in his throat, choking. The animal in him raved as blood spilled, wanting more. The warm place of his drifting dreams shattered as another bloody breath bubbled in the boy's throat. the sound made him shudder as he retracted bloodied claws.  
  
Horror, it hit him as his mind slid free from the tattered remains of his safe place.  
  
He glanced down at the light brown eyes below him, the face that held them bloodied and bruised, brown hair trailing dishevelled over the shoulder of a white coat. He couldn't move, only stare into those staring eyes. He could almost swear they were laughing at him. Mocking him. 'This will never be you.'  
  
He felt himself being pulled back, booted feet connecting repeatedly with his ribs, fists connecting with his stomach, as he was pulled upright. But it didn't matter - all he saw where those eyes and their laughter, turning from brown to red on black in his mind's eye. Laughing. always laughing. always leaving him behind.  
  
"Help me," he cried out as he caught sight of a wavering figure, smoking a cigarette in the shadows, red on black eyes watching him intently as they beat him, pulling him back towards his chains. "Help me," he whispered brokenly, as his lover looked on, his brown trench pooling around him where he sat leaning against the wall of the cell.  
  
Remy just shook his head, demon-eyes sad as he whispered softly, "Sorry, cher, can't. I'm not here. remember."  
  
Chains snapped shut on his wrists, almost cutting of the circulation. A fist connected painfully with his jaw, but he didn't care. He stared at the apparition, blue eyes begging for salvation. Salvation that would never come.  
  
The pain was his only company now and it had become a welcome friend, indeed. 


End file.
